


Make You See Stars

by Little_Plebe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy is a trainwreck you guys, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Possibly Unrequited Feelings, Unresolved Sexual Tension, cut her some slack, which is quickly resolved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Plebe/pseuds/Little_Plebe
Summary: It had only ever been about venting her frustrations out on him, trying to gauge his stand on the concept of relationships, and if nothing, an indirect attempt to get him to ask her out.But had Steve Rogers really agreed to have sex with her?
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers
Comments: 79
Kudos: 198





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Em_Jaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emmmmm, here's your birthday gift! It's a day late but please accept it anyway. You're the nicest, kindest, most talented person I know, and I wish you all the good things in life.
> 
> [Dresupi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi) and [Aenaria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenaria), thank you so much for all the help you've given me on this fic. You guys held my hand, let me complain, supported me, never once doubted me, and in the end made my words better. I couldn't have asked for better beta readers.
> 
> [Mariaku21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariaku21/pseuds/mariaku21), it was your wonderful slew of comments on my fics that motivated me to finish this thing. You're amazing.

For as long as she could remember, Darcy had been attracted to Steve. It had started out as a crush in high school where heroic tales of Captain America reigned supreme in history books, his story the stuff of legends and his existence a downright mystery. At the time, his superhero image was more than enough to fulfill teenage Darcy’s innocent school girl fantasies.

Her crush on him persisted throughout college, present yet dulled by the realization of his miserable non-existence. She believed she had grown up and moved on, but the boys she chose to date always had one or more qualities reminiscent of the good Captain, although none of them stood as tall as he did, not just physically, but by strength of virtue.

After meeting Thor in New Mexico, she didn’t think anything could ever surprise her more than an alien demigod who shot thunder out of a hammer. But then stories of a new Captain America started circulating, and unable to believe them, she’d hacked into a number of government agencies before she found him on the database of her very own nightmare, SHIELD. It was him, really him, not some cheap modern copy of the original, and Darcy was torn between being sad for his sake and happy for hers.

When their paths finally converged, by some divine miracle that she even now contemplated in awe, nearly fourteen years after she had first started doodling his name in the margins of her textbooks, the mushy feelings she had for him went on a rampage of misbehavior and transformed themselves into full-blown yearning. Like, damn, but the fuckboys she met on Tinder didn’t stand a chance against him.

Which was unsurprising, to be honest. Because while she still didn’t know much about the person behind the mask, what little she did know about Steve, she found extremely sexy. His beautiful face, that fine, _fine_ physique, those soulful blue eyes, that glorious set of his jaw, the purposeful way he walked… the list kept expanding as she grew to know him better. Everything about him, from his abysmal cooking skills to his ‘I can do this all day’ attitude, from his unbelievable kindness to his righteous anger, from his dry wit to the way he looked at her when they were together— _everything_ turned her on.

When she discovered he didn’t have a girlfriend and had in fact been single for years, she thought maybe she’d try her luck on him, get him to go out with her and later sex him up hard and fast on his motorcycle. But he was flighty when it came to women. Didn’t go on a lot of dates, declined Natasha’s skillful matchmaking, brought women home for the night but was never seen with them again, and never ever, _not even once_ , made the same advances toward Darcy when she was right there in front of him, dying to have his hands all over her like a fucking degenerate.

It was extremely frustrating. _He_ was frustrating.

“Do you _enjoy_ being alone and single, is that it?” she spat at him one day out of the blue, stomping over to where he was standing in the kitchen and practically plowing him over in her anger.

She noticed he was eating the leftover cake from his birthday and it made her angrier. _She_ had made that cake.

“Where’s this coming from?” he asked with a bemused frown, otherwise unperturbed by her abrupt question and close proximity. The fact that he was clearly okay with her invading his personal space without warning should have told her something about the level of comfort he shared with her, but she was too busy glaring at him to notice. “No,” he uttered with a roll of his eyes, cutting a giant forkful of cake and stuffing it unceremoniously into his mouth. “I mean, I don’t mind it but—”

“But what?” Darcy retorted, fighting the urge to snatch the plate from his hand and force his attention on her. “You’re getting your manly needs met, so there’s no need to take up the responsibility of a relationship, is that it?” His frown deepened but Darcy was on a roll. “God, Steve, you make me sick! Do those women you bring home mean _anything_ to you? They’re not objects you can use and throw away whenever the hell you want!”

Steve’s face suddenly hardened and Darcy felt like a class A jerk for descending on him in such a way, implying without reason that he was being a dick when they both knew he wasn’t. Just because she regularly had wet dreams about him didn’t mean his general cluelessness about her feelings for him should piss her off.

She couldn’t help it though. She wasn’t thinking straight. She felt like a fire-breathing dragon that had woken up from a decade long nap and was desperately looking to scorch something with her flame. Steve was the obvious target because every time he so much as looked at her, that spark within her ignited and burned, licking and clawing at her insides, melting away any rationality she possessed.

“The fuck, Darcy?” Steve’s furious voice reached her through the unpleasant haze in her mind and she blinked at the tiny smudge of buttercream on his top lip. Setting the plate of cake aside, he flicked his tongue out to lick away its traces before focusing his attention fully on Darcy. “You’re outta line, doll. I don’t kidnap them and force myself on them against their will.”

“So?” She couldn’t look away from his mouth. She wanted to stop talking but something had possessed her to keep going. “That makes no difference whatsoever! Because you’re still doing what you’re doing!”

He arched a challenging brow. “And, pray tell, what is it that I’m doing that’s so wrong?”

Darcy huffed. God, he was infuriating. “Oh, please,” she scoffed. “You think you can… that you can just…” Dammit, he was making her forget her words and re-think the point she was trying to make, with his searching eyes and lush lips and his stupidly hot face hovering over hers waiting for her to finish what she had unthinkingly started. “For God’s sake, Steve, do you want to have sex with me or not?”

His expression faltered and Darcy watched with some satisfaction as her words put a nice big crack on his stony exterior. Her satisfaction was short-lived though, as shame soon caught up, prickling at her skin and making her regret ever opening her unfiltered gob.

She hadn’t planned this, hadn’t for one second imagined this was how this confrontation would pan out. It had only ever been about venting her frustrations out on him, trying to gauge his stand on the concept of relationships, and if nothing, an indirect attempt to get him to ask her out.

Not this. Never this. Oh God, they were friends! She had ruined everything! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck!

“Yes.” His soft voice broke through her frantic thoughts and Darcy gaped at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, unsure whether she’d heard him right.

“What? Steve—?”

He straightened up from his casual lean-against-the-counter stance and stepped into her, reaching up to take her chin in his hand. “Yes,” he repeated, louder this time, before pulling her in for a rough kiss.

It was hungry and hot and demanding, but Darcy barely had time to respond. It was over too soon and she practically fell into him, chasing his mouth, when he broke away. He stared down at her with dark eyes and she noticed his lips moving but couldn’t, for the life of her, hear anything beyond the roar of blood in her ears.

“… tonight at seven,” his parting words reached her as if from afar and she nodded dumbly, watching him walk out of the kitchen with a small smile on his face.

What the fuck had just happened?

Had Steve Rogers really agreed to have sex with her?

The rest of her day passed by in a blur. No matter what she did, time refused to slow down. Reading dreary self-help books didn’t help. Jane and her science were surprisingly excitement-free. Scrolling endlessly through various shit-posting blogs on Tumblr barely put a dent in the passage of time. And anytime she let herself think about what she had gone and done, an icy ball of fear blossomed in her gut, tearing through her system and lodging itself in her throat like a poisoned apple.

Blowing up at Steve for his one night stands and then propositioning him for the same was the worst thing she’d ever done, and that was counting the time she’d vomited in her dad’s favorite hat and blamed it on her younger sister. Also counting the time she’d ditched a depressed post-Thor Jane to make out with some hipster rando in the back of his minivan.

There was no denying that she wanted Steve, but was it really too much to hope for a relationship with him first, or at least the promise of a relationship before she fulfilled her fantasy of climbing him like a tree? If she’d had that, the near entirety of her day wouldn’t have been spent alternating between fretting about the outcome of their tryst and daydreaming about being caged in his strong arms, imagining the wet slide of his body against hers and the number of ways he could absolutely destroy her and make her see stars…

An hour before he was supposed to call on her, her anxiety hadn’t subsided but she was equally excited to see him. She had briefly contemplated telling him the truth and asking him out like she _should_ have done in the first place instead of pouncing on him like a hissy cat when he was minding his own business. But the idea was immediately scrapped. She didn’t want him to think she was a fickle little kid. She wanted him and now she’d have him.

Besides, she reasoned, as she stared at her freshly showered reflection in the mirror, seeing nothing of the model-types Steve normally brought home. Who was she kidding? He probably wouldn’t have agreed to a date anyway. She’d have to make do with whatever part of him he was willing to share with her, no matter how small, and she’d have to be happy with it.

 _Ugh_. Chiding herself for her pathetically lovesick thoughts, she rummaged inside her closet and settled on a lacy white negligee she’d purchased last year and had never thought to wear until now. It was a delicate single-strapped thing which pushed her boobs together for a picture perfect cleavage and flared the rest of the way till her upper thighs. It wasn’t that scandalous but you could definitely see her panties through the sheer fabric. Darcy put it on and immediately felt beautiful.

Precisely at seven, there was a knock on her door and she asked the AI to confirm it was Steve, not too keen on showing off her sexy underwear to anyone but him.

“Yes, Ms. Lewis, the Captain’s on the other side.”

Heart pounding, Darcy rushed to open the door, prepared to strike a seductive pose for his benefit (not that she really knew how), only to stop short at the sight of him. Her jaw dropped at the fancy attire he wore; navy blue dress shirt paired with black and gray pin-striped pants and nice polished shoes. It was a ridiculously hot look on him, but she couldn’t for the life of her understand why he’d decided to dress up just for the short trek to her apartment. Was he canceling on her to go somewhere else?

Steve in turn appeared just as surprised by her. “What…” he began with a soft, startled laugh, looking her up and down with wide eyes that lingered indulgently on her chest before rising to meet hers. “What’s going on?”

Darcy was floored. What’s going on, indeed.

He shuffled closer. “Am I dreaming?”

She quirked a brow at him then, her previous uncertainties about this night vanishing at the stunned look on his face. “I should hope not,” she said, preening a little. “If this was a dream, you’d be wearing pants with suspenders, a miner’s helmet, and nothing else.”

He stared. “Is that what you dream about?”

She could have flirted with him, responded with a mischievous ‘maybe’ or even a soft smile with strategically lowered eyes. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and mumbled defensively, “So what if it is?” It was almost embarrassing how bad she was at playing coy.

He didn’t seem to mind, as he gave her another heated once over, Darcy trying not to enjoy the attention too much. “Yeah?” he murmured, playing along. “What else? Do I have a tool belt?”

_Babe, you have no idea!_

“Oh, definitely.”

The corners of Steve’s lips twitched and he crossed the threshold, kicking the door shut behind him as he bridged the distance between them, his hands falling to her waist. Darcy craned her neck to look at him. He’d never stood this close to her before and the faint scent of his aftershave was making her weak in the knees.

“This is… you look…” He seemed to be struggling for words, his throat bobbing. “You really gonna wear that?” His palms coasted along her sides, fingers flexing and pressing against her flesh in the barest of touches. She was finally in his arms, his to devour and possess, just like she’d always dreamed, and it was exciting and unbearable at the same time. Why wasn’t he touching her? Why hadn’t he jumped her yet? The intensity of his gaze on her was heated enough to set her panties on fire, so what was holding him back from taking her right then and there?

The wait made her nervous. Based on the kiss he had given her earlier in the kitchen, she had assumed maybe he was the take-charge type, a hard and fast kinda guy, but he seemed in no hurry to take off her clothes and ravish her against the wall like she’d initially thought he would. Instead, he was being all weird and gentle, looking at her like she was killing him from the inside.

So, she took charge. She slowly ran her hands up his chest and wrapped them around his neck, pressing her body to his, thrilled to feel his arms tighten around her in response. “If you don’t like what I’m wearing,” she pushed on her toes to whisper in his ear, “you’re welcome to take it off, Captain.”

His head bowed a fraction of an inch, the tip of his nose brushing her cheek on its way down, inhaling deeply. Goose pimples erupted all over her skin and Darcy shivered.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she heard him say, low and restrained, but oh so full of promise.

“No?” Darcy hummed distractedly, tugging at his collar in impatience. God, he smelled so good, and his grip on her was so gratifyingly firm. Why the hell was he making her wait? “What, then?” She brushed the words against his neck and was rewarded with a soft groan. He was this close to surrendering. “Steve,” she whispered reluctantly. “Are you having second thoughts?” Could it be that he was just as worried about what this could mean for their friendship as she was? “We can forget this ever hap—”

The rest of her sentence was lost against his mouth as it pressed into hers with fervor, making her gasp. Steve pulled away to growl something like “not fucking possible” before they were kissing again, insistent and needy, pushing and pulling at each other, hips bumping, lips smacking, their movements quick and urgent as they worked toward quenching the thirst that consumed them. Steve spun them around and they fell against a wall, his hands on her thighs flipping up her nighty to bury his fingers between her legs. Darcy broke away to let loose a low moan, eyes popping open and head thunking back on the wall. Her breath came out in gasps and Steve was the same.

He didn’t bother taking her panties off. They were roughly pushed aside, so he could slide his fingers through her slick with purpose. A curse fell off his lips when he felt her. “Christ, Darcy… you’re so wet.”

“For you, always for you… you make me so… aaah, fuck Steve,” she babbled, lifting up on her toes in a full-body arch when his thumb grazed her clit. “Please,” she gasped, tugging desperately at his belt. “Take this off. Do it now!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rasped, stepping away to shuck off his pants and underwear in one go. They pooled around his ankles and she barely had time to admire what he was packing down below before he was flush on her again, devouring her with heady open-mouthed kisses, their tongues tangling and bodies moving together in a steady grind. He wasn’t even _in_ her yet and she could already feel the tension building between her thighs.

She slipped a hand between them to wrap her fingers around his length, feeling him hot and heavy in her hand, and he tore his mouth from hers, letting his head fall to her shoulder and making a delicious little sound that was somewhere between a whine and a moan.

“Sweetheart.” He sounded overcome and Darcy felt herself getting wetter as a zing of pleasure shot up her spine at the low, husky timbre of his voice. Her grip on him tightened reflexively and he bucked into her with a shudder.

It was really all it took, her touching him. He had her hauled up and wrapped around him in no time, her feet crossed at the small of his back, a non-stop stream of _yes, yes yes_ looping around in her head as he squeezed her ass and flattened her against the wall. Wall sex was happening, people. Her fantasy was coming to life.

“Fuck, yeah,” she breathed when he pushed into her without preamble. “Give it to me.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, his face red and alive with so many emotions, it was difficult to decipher them in the moment. He pulled out and slammed back into her with enough force that she slid a few inches up the wall. “The mouth on you…” he murmured, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking it back to bare the long column of her throat to his questing lips.

It felt so amazing to be stretched and filled like this again after a depressingly long dry spell that Darcy couldn’t help the sounds she was making. Her moans echoed around the room and her thoughts and words became increasingly incoherent as Steve drove into her with deep, unforgiving thrusts, his hands on her ass unyielding and his fingers digging almost painfully into her skin.

“Yes. Aaah, yes! Steeeeve,” she cried, hyper-aware of everywhere his body touched hers. The wet slide of his length between her legs, the mark he was sucking on her neck, the hard ridges of his abs against her belly, it all became too much too fast. “…feel so good. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

She’d been in a heightened state of arousal all day, imagining all kinds of filthy things they’d do to each other later on, so it came as no big surprise when her orgasm exploded out of her rather suddenly. It was all she could do to not flat-out sob with the relief that flooded her. Her spine bowed and she threw her head back, crying out his name.

For one long, blissful moment, the world around them disappeared and Darcy reveled in the euphoria. Her eyes were closed, so she couldn’t see Steve, but she heard him suck in a sharp breath, possibly unprepared for either or all of three things: (a) her abrupt climax, (b) the amount of noise she was making, and (c) the way she was fluttering around him, clenching so hard her abdominal muscles ached.

“Jesus,” he whispered, faltering just for a second before picking up his frantic pace.

Darcy opened her eyes and gave him a dreamy smile. “I saw stars,” she told him. He was struck dumb for a moment, then he surged forward and kissed her with his mouth open, groaning as he came inside her with quick, shallow thrusts.

They stayed connected in their embrace for a while, foreheads touching, chests heaving. Her legs, still wrapped around his waist, were beginning to tremble from the strain, but she was too blissed out to care. “That was incredible,” she mumbled, stealing one final taste of his lips.

The spell broke. Steve slipped out of her and gently set her down, holding tight when she buckled under her own weight. “Yeah,” he said with a smile, tugging a fallen strap back on her shoulder. “Go wash up.”

Her heart sank at his words. “You’re leaving?” She tried not to sound too disappointed because it wasn’t like she hadn’t been expecting this.

But Steve surprised her with an amused, “We’re both leaving. Will you please go wear something decent now?”

She watched him pull his pants up and carefully tuck his shirt in before zipping them. “Where are we going?”

“Out to eat. I’m hungry.”

“But where? In the building?”

“No. Out.” He laughed when she opened her mouth to ask for more details. “What’s with all the questions?”

She scowled at him. “I have a right to know.” But she was mostly curious. Of course, they’d had meals together before, but it was always in the communal kitchen. They never went out to eat unless it was with the whole Avengers gang in tow.

Steve raised a hand to her chin, pinching it affectionately. “It’s a restaurant, okay? It’s nice. You’ll like it.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of her bedroom. “Now, please go wash the fuck up and put on a dress that’s not see-through! I don’t want people swooning at the sight of you while we’re having dinner.”

Darcy flushed, realizing how exposed she was, with half her tits spilling out of their lace cups and the gusset of her panties still tucked to one side, the mess they’d made sliding down one leg. She bit her lip and mumbled, “Fine.”

There was a slight limp to her gait as she walked around him and headed to her bedroom. Her mind was swirling with thoughts, confused at his odd offer to take her to dinner. He was from a different time, she supposed, and perhaps felt compelled to pay her back for letting him into her pants with a bite to eat? Hmm, that made little to no sense but at least he was being normal with her. It’d have killed her if things between them had ended in awkwardness.

A feeling of numbness and denial settled over her and she spent long minutes in the bathroom trying to understand her warring emotions. She also replayed the last five minutes with Steve in her mind, recalling details she had missed in the heat of the moment. It had all happened so fast. Maybe she should have made an effort to make it last longer. She wanted him so much.

A warm bath would have been nice after a toe-curling romp such as that, but Darcy quickly stripped off and washed away the evidence of their coupling. Wrapped in a towel, she walked out to find Steve standing in the doorway, looking into her room with interest.

“Sorry,” he said when she jumped. “May I use your facilities?”

She waved a hand and didn’t see him go in, busy scanning her closet for an outfit fancy enough to match his. A blue-green wrap-around dress caught her eye and a stunning blood red one with a modest V neck and cinched waist. She held them both up when Steve came out.

“Which one?”

He pointed to the red and said, “Peggy had the same dress.”

“Right,” Darcy said, ripping said dress from its hanger, scrunching it up, and tossing it in the wastebasket without a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll burn it later.”

Steve threw his head back and laughed, looking strangely delighted at her vehemence.

She glared at him. “You think that’s funny?”

He grinned, unapologetic. “Very.” His eyes fell to the other outfit she was holding and he added, “I like that better anyway. Brings out your eyes.”

She nodded, unclenching. “Okay. Turn around.”

“Why?” he teased—ever the troll—but obeyed nonetheless and didn’t try to peek.

Darcy quickly dropped the towel and wrapped the blue-green dress around her. She liked it. It was soft, comfortable, and accentuated her curves. The cut of it didn’t allow for a bra but she did put on clean underwear before clearing her throat and asking Steve to turn back around.

“So, do I look classy enough to be on Captain America’s arm?”

“Sweetheart, you’re way out of Captain America’s league.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooohoohooh, I do I do I doooo  
> Boy, you got me helpless  
> Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit  
> I'm helplessss
> 
> This song's been stuck on a loop in my head since forever. Now you get a share of it, too.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing of NYC or its traffic or its restaurants.

The restaurant Steve had chosen was only a few minutes away by car. It wasn’t too posh, like his attire had led her to assume, but it was definitely chic and had valet parking. Darcy stepped out of the car in astonishment, eyeing the busy exterior and the line of vehicles behind them waiting to be valeted. She looked at Steve for an explanation but he was busy talking to the valet attendant. Her head spun. First, he had borrowed one of Tony’s finest cars to drive her—what, three? four blocks? And now they were standing outside this large, stylish establishment that she’d normally never set foot in, waiting to be led inside.

Did he do this with all the women he slept with? Did he bring them to _Coriander Leaf_?

“You know you don’t have to buy me dinner to get into my pants, right?” she teased when he joined her, offering her his arm which she shoved away with a roll of her eyes. They weren’t a couple. There was no need to be cheesy. “You can tap this booty anytime. I won’t stop ya.”

Steve gave her a sideways look. “We’re way past that stage anyway,” he said dryly.

“Oh, right. We already did it, didn’t we?” It was easier to joke about it than hold it inside her like a dirty secret. “How impatient of us.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Darcy sniffed. “I’ve no idea what you mean.”

Their conversation fell away as they stepped inside the restaurant and were greeted by a uniformed member of the staff. Darcy looked around, finding the interior just as lovely as the exterior. Rows upon rows of polished circular booths met her eye, high enough that they afforded the people sitting within them some privacy. The place was also very well lit, not too bright that it’d hurt her eyes or make her feel naked, but not too dim that she wouldn’t be able to see clearly. The bar was crammed with people and as far as she could tell, all the booths were occupied.

That didn’t deter Steve, however, as he placed a hand on her back and guided her to the very back of the sitting area to the corner most booth, gesturing for her to slide in.

She pointed to the middle of the round table. “That plaque says this table is reserved.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, for us. Get in.”

Darcy stared at him. “You reserved a table for us?” When exactly had he done that? Had this been his plan all along? To take her out to dinner and then spend the night in her bed? Well, it hadn’t exactly gone according to plan, had it? She’d turned the whole thing around by jumping him in her sexy lingerie the moment he’d graced her doorway.

She sat down and Steve slid in right next to her instead of opposite her. “I come here often enough that they keep this booth open for me,” he told her conversationally. “I tried to protest but they’d have none of it.”

Darcy felt her face fall but she nodded along with a forced smile. “Bring all your conquests here, do you?”

He looked adorably nonplussed. “My what?”

“Oh, you know,” Darcy waved uneasily, awkward now that she had to explain. “All those women that you… you know?”

Understanding sparked behind his eyes and he sighed. “Ah yes, I remember what you yelled at me in the kitchen.” Her muttered objection of “I didn’t yell” was ignored as he regarded her curiously. “Does it really bother you that I maintain a social life outside of the tower?”

“I wouldn’t call it social per se,” she mumbled, more to herself.

She knew she was being unfair to him, but she couldn’t _help_ feeling jealous. Especially now that he’d brought her to this nice place. On a date. Didn’t matter if he did this with the other women, maybe out of some weird personal obligation or something. Even so, he was acting nothing less than a gentleman and she was being a total douchecanoe.

He was still waiting patiently for her answer, so she huffed and lied, “No. You can do whatever the hell you want. I was just being weird.” Then, as if she knew he’d see right through her if she didn’t deign him with _some_ grain of truth, she added reluctantly, “I was horny.”

She didn’t see his reaction but she did hear him snort. “Tinder not enough for you anymore?”

That, for some reason, annoyed her more than if he’d outright said she and him weren’t any different. “Shut up. I never said I was a saint,” she said defensively. And he was wrong. She hadn’t used Tinder in a while, and her dry spell had been longer than she was keen on admitting.

“Never took you for one,” he agreed softly, and she fell silent, her scowl dissipating.

There was a tense pause in which Darcy debated how to move past this conversation while Steve appeared to ponder over something. He shook his head as though saying ‘screw it’ to himself, and demurred, “I don’t sleep around as much as you like to think I do.”

Darcy felt a rush of guilt at his statement, and she instantly regretted ever bringing up this topic.

“Sometimes I can’t help it,” he continued with a shrug, his lips curving with the hint of a mocking smile. “I’m sure you know how that feels.”

She remembered flying at him in a blind rage, helpless against the words that fell out of her mouth, words that had nevertheless led him to pin her to the wall of her apartment. Desperate. Hungry.

She closed her eyes. Yeah, she understood exactly how that felt.

Steve grinned, satisfied, when she nodded, and her cheeks warmed. He was being so honest and nice and wonderfully attentive. Darcy wondered if there was a chance she could convince him to go a second round with her later. They wouldn’t be breaking any of his rules. It would, after all, still be a one night stand.

Their server arrived with the menu and smiled at Steve like an old friend. “Captain Rogers, good to see you again.” He turned his smile on Darcy, polite and welcoming. “Miss.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” Steve said. “We’ll signal you when we’re ready to order.”

“Very good, sir.”

Darcy flipped open the menu, Steve reading over her shoulder, and she almost fainted at the prices. She placed her finger over one number in particular and turned to him, incredulous. “So, seriously, how often do you come here?”

Steve laughed. “Not enough to burn a hole in my pocket.”

She forcefully underlined the digits with her finger. “ _Dude_.”

And he laughed again, telling her to get on with it because he was famished. She loved it when Steve laughed. His whole face morphed into a softer, more vulnerable expression. It was this very laugh that had once helped her separate Captain America from Steve Rogers in her mind.

Jeff returned with a notepad and pen, and Darcy and Steve took turns recounting what they wanted to eat. Between them, they managed to order a variety of dishes and demolished them in record time, too. Darcy now understood why he liked this place so much. It was private, classy, no one asked for his autograph or phone number. Plus, the food was a treat for the senses. It looked and smelled delicious but tasted even better.

Their conversation, as it normally did after months of knowing each other, flowed without a hitch. There were moments when Steve would say or do something she found adorable and she’d get the strong urge to cup his cheek or hold his hand or blurt out how unbelievably beautiful she thought he was. But she had so far been successful in tamping down on those urges. It wouldn’t do to scare him off when she was hoping for a repeat performance of mind-blowing sex.

“So,” she said a few minutes in, taking a sip of her Bloody Mary. “Arted anything new lately?” Every so often, she saw him with a sketchbook that he never showed to anyone, and she was dying to discover the secrets it held within its pages.

Steve smirked. “That’s not how you say it.”

“Made any new art lately?” Darcy amended, sticking out her tongue.

“Mm-hmm. A couple of self-portraits,” he replied, ever the sass master.

“Uh-oh. So vain.”

“That’s me. Captain Narcissus.”

She giggled, entertained by the banter. “You know that movie where a serial killer goes around offing people according to their sins?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I’d be the first to go because of my vanity?”

“You said it. Not me.”

“I did sketch a picture of the Manhattan skyline if you ever want to see.”

She beamed, caught off-guard by his invitation to see inside his secret sketchbook. “I’d like that.”

There was a beat of silence, during which Darcy idly imagined what it’d be like to pose nude for him, bare herself to his careful scrutiny and allow him to spend hours upon hours learning every curve, every mole, every flaw of her body. She wondered if he’d show her how to pose, whether he’d grant her creative freedom or run his hands all over her in order to shift and turn and arrange her the way he wanted. If he’d come join her after, leave charcoal smudges on her skin as they rolled around in their own sweat and musk—

A faint clearing of the throat brought her plummeting back to the present. “Huh.” She jumped, eyes darting to Steve. “Did you say something?”

He nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Where did you go?”

“Nowhere. What? I’m right here!” Darcy insisted when he scoffed.

“Liar. Tell me what you were thinking.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back, not about to let him win. “Tell me what you were saying first.”

“I forgot.”

“Look who’s lying now.”

“So, what, you have the monopoly on lying?”

“Who says I was lying at all?”

“I did, five seconds ago.”

“And why should I believe what you said?”

He glared at her, incredulous. “Because _you_ were the one daydreaming while I was trying to hold a conversation!”

“And what is it that you were saying to me exactly?”

Steve opened his mouth, about to do just that when he realized they’d come around in a circle. His eyes narrowed and Darcy smirked triumphantly when he shot her a half-hearted look of exasperation before bursting into laughter at the pointlessness of their argument.

“Fine, you win,” he conceded, tickling her side as revenge. “I was saying you don’t have to burn that red dress. Give it to Natasha. She likes red.”

_So, you can fall in love with her instead? No, thank you._

Darcy pursed her lips to keep that thought to herself. “It won’t fit her,” she replied shortly, concentrating on her steak.

“You are the same height.”

“I’m bigger in other ways.” She glanced at him just in time to see his eyes drop to her chest. Her breath caught and something like resentment rose within her. She whispered unevenly, “You need to get over her, Steve.”

She felt stupid for not realizing that until this moment. Wasn’t that why he’d never been too keen on a steady relationship? It all made sense now.

Steve’s gaze snapped to hers, knowing exactly who she was talking about. “I was never under her.”

Darcy wasn’t amused. “You know what I mean.”

“And _you_ don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stated with finality.

“Fine,” she huffed, turning away. “Keep pining.”

There was a beat. Then, “Who says I’m pining?”

She heard rather than saw the grin in his voice, and she huffed, unable to stop herself from playing along. “I did, five seconds ago.”

“And why should I believe what you said?”

Despite herself, Darcy felt her eyes crinkle. He was such a dork; it was impossible to stay mad at him for long. She shoved him good-naturedly, hating him for his effortless charm. “Shut up.”

“Ain’t gonna happen, doll. You’re stuck with my endless chatter for the rest of this meal.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned, but she was also laughing, feeling her heart skip at the old-timey term of endearment. “How will I ever cope?”

The mood bounced back, cheerier than ever. Darcy marveled at how good they were at this, this constant back and forth. She’d certainly never noticed it before. Blinded as she was by her attraction to him, she hadn’t realized just how well they fit together as people.

Time slowed as they sat there long after their meal was over, talking about work, movies, books they were currently reading. And Darcy found herself being swept away with the magic of the night. In the privacy of their booth, with his body close to hers and his arm slung over the back of her seat, fingers brushing her shoulder, it was easy to forget they were just friends, there to have a good time. She didn’t regret sleeping with him, not one bit; it was frankly the best sex she’d ever had. But her heart ached with how much she wanted more of this. Just the two of them, together, possibly forever.

“What are you thinking?”

Darcy blinked to find herself staring at him and him staring right back. Well, shit, not again! “That I’d like some dessert to round off this meal, wouldn’t you?” she fibbed quickly, smiling wide. _No more slipping up, Darcy._

She’d lost count of the times he’d asked her this same question before, in varying situations, but it was sad how she’d rarely been able to give him a straight answer due to fear of rejection and losing what they already had. Most of the time, her thoughts were about him, especially when they were together. These thoughts weren’t always filthy and full of naked bodies colliding; sometimes they were of domestic bliss and mundane household chores. Neither, however, was reasonable enough to ever share with him.

Then again, maybe if she hadn’t bottled her feelings so much, she would’ve been able to contain herself in the kitchen, and not explode all over him like a nuclear warhead.

She tried not to squirm under Steve’s penetrating gaze. He wasn’t even pretending to be convinced by her lame answer. “Liar,” he murmured in an echo of all the times he’d called her that before, making her flush with embarrassment. She couldn’t look away from him though. Because he was looking right back, soft and affectionate, as though telling her something with his eyes without saying it.

It made her wonder…

“Alright, dessert.” He clapped his hands and Darcy shook herself, feigning excitement. “What’d you like?”

“Pudding!”

To her utter delight, the chocolate pudding she ordered turned out to be the most decadent thing ever. An uninhibited moan burst forth from her on her first bite. “Steeeeve,” she sighed and saw his eyes widen ever so slightly. “Taste this. It’s so good!”

He shook his head, more interested in watching her eat. “Wolfed down a whole damned cake today,” he mumbled.

“ _Leftover_ cake,” Darcy corrected. “And that was hours ago.” She took a second, bigger spoonful of pudding, stifling another moan of pleasure, making sure to turn her spoon and lick the back of it for good measure. “You’re missing out,” she teased him in a sing-song voice. “You’re missing out, Steve-o.” She smacked her lips, seriously. “Oh, this is absolutely sinful.”

“Okay, I’ll have a taste,” Steve suddenly murmured.

Before she could ascertain the meaning behind his words, he’d turned her face with his hand and closed his mouth over hers, licking the taste of chocolate from her lips.

Time seemed to stop as Darcy held still, her eyes open and staring at him, unable to comprehend the sudden change in atmosphere. The lights dimmed, the temperature spiked, and his lips all but burned her with soft, sucking kisses, their noses brushing as he turned his head this way and that, drawing her into his warmth, his touch so achingly slow and tender, it almost felt like he was worshipping her, relishing every second… waiting for her to respond in kind.

“Sinful,” he murmured, withdrawing, making his fingers ghost temptingly down her throat.

His gaze set her aflame and it was as though no time had passed between her apartment and now. Darcy threw her spoon on the table and surged forward, Steve meeting her halfway. Their mouths sealed with a combined sigh, hands reaching for each other with an urgency that rivaled their first time. Darcy turned in her seat and Steve was quick to lift her legs in his lap and drag her closer, crushing her to his chest. His tongue pushed deep inside her mouth while his hand fell to the side of her thigh where her dress had split open. Darcy hummed with satisfaction, her teeth bearing down for a bite of him.

In their heat, they’d all but forgotten they were in a public place, unaware of anything or anyone as they devoured each other, swallowing every sigh, every moan that threatened to escape. Steve twisted her hair around his knuckles and wrenched her head back, dipping to lavish hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of her neck. Darcy had to bite her lip from crying out when his teeth sunk into her skin.

“Steve,” she gasped, heat rapidly pooling between her legs.

He slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of her dress and pushed it down her shoulder, exposing more of her to taste. She tried to push him off.

“Steve,” she whispered again. “People will see!”

“Let them,” he grunted, stubbornly continuing his task of melting her into a puddle.

“They might… _aah_ …” Her voice snagged on a particularly stimulating swipe of his tongue. “The restaurant, Steve… they might ban us for engaging in public indecency.”

It took him a moment to comprehend her words. When they finally registered, his hold on her relaxed and he jerked back with a harshly whispered curse. Any other time, Darcy would have laughed and teased him about his priorities and his clear infatuation with this place, but she was in no position to laugh, let alone say anything. She took small shaky gulps of air, urging her heartbeat to slow down.

Steve wasn’t any better. His hair was a mess, lips ripe and gleaming, and his eyes were clouded with barely contained desire, as he checked their surroundings for prying eyes. Thankfully, no one had seen them, or at least it didn’t seem like it. He turned back to watch her tug her dress into place and attempt to tame her hair.

“Let’s get outta here.”

Darcy nodded, taking his hand and sliding out of the booth after him. “What about the bill?”

He was unconcerned. “They’ll put it on my tab.”

They practically flew to the exit, sparing a smile for the doorman, and bursting out into the crisp night air. Steve looked for the valet.

“Is there an alley or a side street here where we can go?” Darcy panted, clinging to his side. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Steve gathered her in his arms, sustaining her with a series of short, hard kisses until their car arrived.

It didn’t get any easier in the car. Steve was driving but it wasn’t fast enough for Darcy’s liking. Her whole body was thrumming with excitement and energy and she just couldn’t sit still.

“Gimme a kiss,” she murmured, leaning toward him.

His eyes flickered to her, dark and heavy. “Darce…”

“Please.”

“C’mere.” He extended a hand into her hair and pulled her close for a bruising kiss. The car swerved a shade to the left and their teeth clacked when she fell into him.

“Ah, shit,” Steve mumbled, letting her go to step on the pedal with more force than necessary.

He was just as frenzied as she felt, weaving through the traffic with barely any semblance of control, cursing under his breath every now and then for the silliest of reasons. They almost rear-ended a taxi and Steve called the driver a fucker.

Darcy laughed breathlessly and ducked under his arm to nibble on his earlobe.

He groaned. “Sweetheart, I can’t focus.”

“Deal with it.”

He dealt with it, with absolutely no decorum, using just one hand to flip her dress and utterly mess her up. By the time their car skidded into the basement of the tower, she was sopping wet and throbbing with want.

“Let’s just do it here,” she told him. “Look, there’s no one.”

Steve laughed and delivered a fleeting kiss to her lips. “We’re not having sex in a basement, Darcy.”

It was her turn to whine and curse as she stomped out of the car and walked the length of the dark basement to the elevator. Steve came up behind her and pulled her to him, pressing his crotch to her ass. She could feel him through his pants. He was hard as nails.

She rubbed against him shamelessly while he shoved her hair to the side and licked a wet stripe up her neck. She thought he rather liked pulling her hair because he kept one hand fisted in it while the other circled around to cup her center.

She moaned wantonly. There was no one to hear her.

“Did you hit the button?” Steve whispered, teasing the sensitive skin below her ear.

Darcy’s eyes snapped open to realize that no, she hadn’t. But she didn’t need to. The stupid car had been in the basement all along. Swearing, she slammed her palm over the button and the elevator doors slid open. Jesus H. Christ, this was just the worst wait of her life! Far worse than waiting to find out if she’d passed a difficult exam. And now she’d have to suffer another two minutes before she could get her mitts on Steve again.

“Why?” he asked her when the doors closed behind them and she wouldn’t let him near her.

“Security camera,” she explained shortly.

“Fuck it,” he told her, reaching out.

She shook her head and moved away. “Don’t want Tony to see.” Actually, she didn’t want _anyone_ to see. If this was just a one-time thing—which she was beginning to think it might not be, but if it _was_ and she’d completely misread all the signs, then it was pointless to let their friends find out and spend the rest of their lives enduring everyone’s endless ribbing. She’d never be able to look Steve in the face.

“There were cameras in the basement,” he reminded her.

“It was dark.”

He blew out a frustrated breath but didn’t contest her further, slumping back against the metal compartment and obsessively watching the changing floor numbers on the screen. Darcy noticed he was taking her to his apartment, not hers. It wouldn’t be ideal, doing the walk of shame from his place to hers, but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that he wanted her and she was going to tear his clothes off and burn her name on his skin with her lips. She’d bite and scratch and squeeze until she left marks, never let him forget that he’d had her and she’d given him her all.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that if you want me to keep my distance, doll.”

She pouted at him, helpless. “How much longer?”

He glanced at the screen and back at her. “Seventeen floors. Tell me what you were thinking.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

He shuffled closer, his voice dropping. “I’d still like to know.”

“Take me home and I’ll show you.”

“I’m trying,” he huffed irritably. “Damned elevator is the slowest thing in the universe!”

Darcy giggled. He was so cute when he was impatient. “Tell that to Tony.”

“I intend to! I’m also gonna force him to install a privacy protocol or something.”

“So people can activate it and make out wherever they want?”

Steve wrinkled his nose, the expression on his face going from ‘well, yeah’ to ‘eww, no!’ to a deeply perturbed frown.

Darcy smothered a laugh and decided to take pity on him. “I was thinking about scratching you all up,” she revealed softly, noting the way his eyes darted to hers, surprised at actually getting an answer to his question. “Make you scream.”

He seemed to digest her words, then eased closer, wetting his lips, minimizing the distance between them with small, sure steps. “You’re the screamer, not me,” he remarked quietly, leaning but not touching.

Darcy swallowed. “Yeah, well, you’re the biter.”

He hummed in agreement, raking hungry eyes over her. “Can’t help if you taste so good.”

She shivered. “Steve…”

“Let me kiss you.”

Her stomach flipped. He was standing so close, she could smell his scent, clean and woodsy with a hint of something primal she dared not name in the fear that she’d pull his pants down and drop to her knees right there in the elevator. She could feel her body heating up again, anticipation building with each floor they zipped past, overcome by the strongest urge to just give in, fall into his arms, and let him do with her as he pleased.

She was just about to say yes when there was a faint ding and the elevator doors opened. “Thank fuck,” Steve snarled, and Darcy stumbled out after him, her hand in his, huffing as she tried to keep up with his long strides. A third person looking in on them would be guaranteed to mistake their frenzy for a life or death situation, but neither of them cared. They sprinted down the hallway to Steve’s apartment and nearly kicked his door down to get inside.

“Come here, come here, come here,” Darcy repeated feverishly as Steve locked the door and turned, sweeping her into his arms and finally, _finally_ slanting his mouth over hers, both of them groaning at the contact.

It was much like before, rough and greedy and hot and messy, their movements without any heed or order, their hands desperately seeking bare skin while their mouths fought with each other, persistent and unrelenting. Darcy didn’t waste any time. She reached down to unbuckle his belt and pluck at the button of his pants until it popped open. Her hand slipped in at once, squeezing him through his boxer briefs, and Steve moaned, backing her against the nearest wall.

“Yes,” she hissed when he rocked into her palm and bunched her dress up to knead the soft flesh of her ass. “You’re so hot… please just fuck me. I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m…”

Steve muffled a laugh against her lips. “Sweetheart, calm down.”

The hell she would! Grabbing his hair, she pulled, fixing him with burning eyes. “Fuck me,” she ordered fiercely. “Now.”

His eyes widened but he didn’t let up, backing away completely, her hand slipping out of his pants. “Not yet,” he said, much to her indignation. “Come with me first.”

She lifted her chin. “Make me!”

“Okay,” he shrugged.

Darcy squealed when he stooped and banded an arm under her rear, effortlessly throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Hey,” she cried, pinching his left butt cheek as revenge. “Put me down.”

He did, but only after he’d carried her all the way to his bedroom, setting her down at the foot of his bed, looking smug. Darcy moved forward to shove him, but he took her wrists and pinned them behind her with one hand, his other hand falling to the sash around her waist.

“Be still,” he whispered, ghosting plush lips tantalizingly over hers. When she surged into him and continued to struggle, he repeated his words with an audible dash of command. “Be still, Darcy.”

The command washed over her like a heated caress, making the hair on her arms stand on end. Her movements ceased and she stood before him, pliant and submissive, her pupils blown apart, eyes wide and staring.

“Good,” Steve murmured, feathering butterfly kisses to her face while his fingers played with her sash. “Now let me see you.”

With one sharp tug, her dress fell open, the silky material slithering around her curves in a rush, until it unwound completely, baring her to his gaze. He pushed it down her shoulders where it fell to hang over her locked wrists.

Steve exhaled heavily, taking her in. “Fuck, Darcy, you’re gorgeous.”

She didn’t speak—she couldn’t—as his fingers brushed over the pale expanse of her skin, light and exploring, circling the swell of one breast, grazing a nipple, moving down to stroke her belly, progressing past the waistband of her panties to tease her through its thin fabric. His touch was arresting. Her eyes slid shut and her head fell back as she arched into him, whimpering.

Steve nuzzled his nose into the arc of her neck, planting tiny pecks of warmth, nipping and licking as he went. But it wasn’t _remotely_ enough. Darcy was close to begging; she could hardly breathe straight with the way he was touching her, taking his own sweet time. She was gratified when he finally freed her wrists to fumble with his pants. They dropped to the ground almost as fast as her dress pooled around her feet. They quickly toed off their shoes (and in Steve’s case, socks) and Darcy pushed him to sit on the bed, moving to straddle him.

Separated only by twin pieces of cotton—and Steve’s pesky shirt which she was doing her best to rip apart—their centers aligned and Darcy heard herself mewl with satisfaction as she rocked against the tent in his underwear with slow, sensuous strokes. Steve moved to draw her into a kiss when suddenly he froze, let out a strangled “shit!” of horror, and stopped.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Darcy grumbled, unfocused and startled.

He pointed to the floor by his pants where a single packet of foil had fallen out of his pocket. Steve stared at her and it was adorable how alarmed he was. “Earlier,” he choked, “we didn’t… we… Darcy?”

She hushed him with a grin. “We’re clear. I have an implant and I’m clean,” she told him, seeing him visibly relax, falling forward to bury his face in her chest. “But,” she couldn’t help teasing, “just one condom, really?”

His shoulders shook and he pinched her side, pulling back to mock-glare at her. “Don’t judge me. I was trying not to be presumptuous.”

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, fighting a smile.

She squealed with laughter when he spun her and tossed her further up on the bed, landing on top of her with a smirk. “Keep laughing,” he said, dipping to scrape his teeth along her collarbone. “I’m gonna destroy you.”

Darcy bit her lip. “That a promise?”

He didn’t respond, simply sat up to peel his shirt off and shoot her a look so intense, she almost climaxed right on the spot. Then, he was on her again, surrounding her with miles of rippling muscles which she dug into with a happy sigh. His body was a solid weight against hers, both hard and soft at the same time, and giving off so much heat that her mouth fell open when they came together. The inside of his mouth was even hotter when he circled his tongue around one rosy nipple before tucking it into his wet heat, making her keen with the electric feel of it.

He spent a long time loving her tits, peppering them with kisses, suckles, and bites, making tiny humming noises of approval that drove her progressively madder with each passing second. She moaned long and loud at his ministrations, digging her nails into his back and canting her hips into his to seek friction where she ached for him the most.

“Steve, Steve,” she breathed, attempting to guide him away from her breasts. There was a wet pop as he released the nipple he’d been lavishing attention on for the past minute. “Want you, Steve.”

He gave her a deep kiss. “Wanna taste you first.”

“Yes, anything,” she pleaded. “ _Fuck_ , just… do it. Touch me.”

He crawled down her body, covering her with kisses as he went, stopping when he got to the waistband of her panties, which were then ripped off and hurled unceremoniously over his shoulder.

Darcy was too turned on to care but glared at him anyway. “Why’d you do that?”

“It was easier,” he mumbled.

A ball of nervous energy settled in her stomach when she saw his eyes drop to her dripping core. Sure, they’d had sex, but this somehow felt more intimate, being fully bare before him, knowing she wasn’t perfect, not like those women he brought home, not like _him_. But knowing that he was still pretty mesmerized by what he was seeing, looking like he was itching for a taste for her, set Darcy’s nerves at ease.

The first brush of his lips, soft and hesitant, made her breath hitch, and she very nearly melted into the pillow with anticipation. Large hands coursed down her legs, lifting them over his shoulders, and before she knew what was happening, the lower half of her body was being propelled up and off the bed as he sat up and settled on his haunches. Darcy yelped, scrambling for purchase as blood rushed to her head and she looked about in shock.

“Shh, you’re fine,” Steve murmured from his position between her thighs.

He’d stretched her body into a wide arch, with her knees hooked around his neck, and her head and shoulders the only parts of her touching the bed. It was crazy! He barely gave her any time before he was pitching forward to take the first long lick of her pink flesh.

And hooo boy! Being held like this heightened every sensation, so much so that Darcy found herself crying out in ecstasy. “Oh my God!” Her palms slapped on the bed, tightly fisting the sheet. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

He licked her again, deliberate and thorough, spreading her inner lips with his expert tongue, the tip of his nose bumping delightfully against her tiny bundle of nerves. And Darcy lost all sense of her surroundings.

It wasn’t like no one had ever gone down her. But with her previous lovers, few as they were, it was never like this. Intense, wonderful, and positively earth-shattering. He ate her like his life depended on it, as though feeding off of her pleasure, touching her everywhere while doing so, squeezing her ass, tracing the outline of her waist, reaching down to mold her tits in his palms. She was a puddle in his hands in no time, hips swiveling, body writhing, and words pouring out of her like garbled water.

“Yes… oh God, yes… right there… _aah, aah_ ,” she moaned at one point, bucking her hips into his mouth, “you feel so good, Steve… so good… don’t stop… don’t ever stop… never ever ever ever ever…”

He let out a low carnal groan, scraping his teeth over her clit, tongue swirling just right, and her climax hit her like a wave that lifted her right off the bed. Her spine bowed and her head tipped back at an impossible angle as her orgasm washed over her, long and hard.

Steve gently unhooked her stiff, taut legs from around him and eased her down on the bed. She kept her eyes closed as her body continued to shudder with the aftereffects of her release. Christ, she was spent! She didn’t think she could move. Steve dropped a wet kiss to her stomach, one between the valley of her breasts, one on her chin, and he was back on top of her, hovering patiently as she regained her bearings.

“You can let go now,” he said, tapping her fists.

Darcy opened her eyes to find that in the madness, she’d yanked the bedsheet right from under the mattress and it now lay crumpled around her, making it look like she was sprawled on a cloud.

She went red in the face, more than she already was. She’d never mangled beds before. “Sorry.”

But Steve just looked pleased. “Ain’t blaming you for nothin’, doll.”

She tilted her chin to kiss him, wet and filthy, tasting herself on his tongue. “Don’t look so smug,” she panted when they broke apart, winding her arms around him with some effort. Her limbs felt like jelly and when he pressed down on her, the warm weight of his body felt so amazing and comfortable, like she was enveloped in a snug cocoon, that Darcy thought she’d drift off if he didn’t do anything about it.

“Can feel any way I want,” he told her with a smile. “You okay?”

She was more than okay. She was floating!

Steve huffed out a laugh when she stretched her arms out and merely purred in response. “Okay, then.” He drew back from her to strip off his underwear and she watched him palm and stroke himself with interest, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. She reached down to curl her fingers over his, and he looked at her, eyes half-mast, the blue in them barely visible.

Darcy’s mouth watered. He was so big and heavy and perfect. She wanted nothing more than to take him into her mouth and tear down all his walls. But her body wouldn’t allow her. At least not yet. If she could convince him to give her some time to cool off, she could push him on his back and devastate him like he had devastated her. But he appeared to be in no position to wait anymore. His muscles were strained and he was practically trembling with need.

“Darcy…” he whispered.

All he needed was a nod before he was pushing inside her with a guttural moan, embedding himself to the hilt. Sensitive as she was, Darcy cried out at the wonderful shock of it. She crossed her legs around him and watched him close his eyes and take a few steadying breaths, as though overwhelmed.

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” he mumbled hoarsely, leaning down to blindly mouth at her face, catching her jaw. “So tight…” He pulled out and drove back in, setting a steady pace, as though trying to stretch this out for as long as he could. “So wet…” They kissed, sloppy and open-mouthed, their aim lousy. “So beautiful…” He gripped her ass and ground down on her. “…gonna make you come all over me.”

“Fuck, dude,” Darcy managed, stunned. Was he _trying_ to make her fall in love with him? “I don’t… I don’t think I can…”

What he’d done to her earlier had wiped her out. Her thighs were still quivering from the strain. And while the stretch of him felt good, her excitement seemed to have cooled off a shade.

Steve was having none of it. “You will,” he told her, adding when she opened her mouth to protest, “One more word and I’ll make you beg.”

“But…”

“You’ll beg,” he stated with finality.

Darcy gulped and nodded. Did he really have it in him to wait that long? It could take her long minutes to reach that peak again. But he seemed determined and they were both enjoying this, so she let him think what he wanted to think.

Until…

He took her one leg and spread her further open by holding it in the bend of his elbow, giving him more room to work with. And suddenly, every thrust became infinitely more pleasurable, and Darcy soon felt that familiar tingle, the one that told her that _oh, god_ she was beginning to come alive again.

Something of her realization must have shown on her face because Steve bumped her nose and smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. Darcy huffed and began moving faster, rolling her hips, taking him as deep as she could, and urging him to do the same, but his pace didn’t falter for a second.

She knew what he was trying to do. He wanted her to beg. Well, fuck you, Steve! She was not saying a single word. She’d stay as quiet as a church mouse. Wouldn’t let him break her so easily.

And yet, every time he thrust into her, hitting that secret spot inside her that made her want to keen, she’d find herself gritting her teeth to keep from crying out.

“Did you say something?” Steve asked when she’d successfully stifled her third moan.

“Fuck you,” she told him, digging her nails into his skin and scratching long lines down his back.

His face fell next to her on the pillow and he muffled a groan into her neck. “God, Darcy. You’re killing me.”

She snapped her hips angrily into his. “Fuck me harder, then.”

He raised his head to look at her. “Fine, but you can’t come unless I tell you to.”

Darcy snorted. “Oh, please. Like you can stop me.”

“Darcy…”

“Alright, fine! Jeez!” Darcy exclaimed, clamping her walls around him and watching his eyelids flutter. “Just go faster, for Odin’s sake!”

He obeyed, pulling out and slamming into her on the next thrust as if imprinting on her. Darcy sighed happily and drew him closer with her hands on his back, nails scratching the way he liked, matching him thrust for thrust, desperately chasing her release.

She yanked him down for a kiss when she felt that wave building, threatening to crash over her any second. “’M so close,” she panted. “Faster, faster… oh, _oh_ …” her pace faltered ever so slightly, “Steve, ’m gonna...”

She felt his weight lift off of her and growled in frustration. But he simply flipped her on her stomach and ordered her to get on her knees.

“Bastard,” she muttered, but did as told, presenting her ass to him like a cat in heat, uncaring of how it looked.

He smoothed his fingers over her cheeks admiringly, grasping them with firm hands and pressing them open so he could slide the tip of his dick over her swollen flesh. Darcy gasped and rocked back into him, trying to catch him. It felt so damned fantastic when he entered her again that she grabbed his pillow and buried her moan into its depths, clutching it tightly. The angle was oh so perfect and she felt _everything_.

The room was ripe with the smell of sex and the sounds of their love-making, but Darcy’s heart hammered even louder, drowning out her own voice as she babbled endlessly into Steve’s pillow, having forgotten or maybe just disregarded her vow to stay silent.

“Yes… yesss… holy shit, you feel like heaven, Steve…” She cried out when he seized her hair and pulled, a jolt of electricity shooting up her spine. “Oh God, oh fuck… ’m so close… will kill you if you stop… you hear me?”

He laughed but it sounded more like a lazy puff of air. Their bodies were slick with sweat but he didn’t seem to mind as he bent forward to run his mouth along her spine, sweeping his hands over her ribs to grope her tits.

“Don’t come yet,” he whispered in her ear, and Darcy whined dismally.

“Nooooo. Don’t make me wait, Steve, please.”

He turned her head and sought her mouth for a hard kiss, tangling their tongues and swallowing her pleas. She tried and failed to trap his hands on her breasts so he wouldn’t pull away. But she was helpless, standing right there on the edge of a precipice, unable to let go just ‘cause he’d told her not to in his Captain voice.

What the hell was wrong with her body? Why was it listening to him?

She felt another jolt when his fingers slipped down her front to press against her clit. The shock of it pushed her to her knees, her hair whipping behind her in an imperfect arc as she crashed into Steve’s chest. He immediately wrapped an arm around her to keep her there.

“Please,” Darcy wailed, her tits bouncing, toes curling, and eyes squeezed shut. “Just let me… I’ll do anything.” The pain was so good she couldn’t bear it, and she felt like she’d explode if she didn’t orgasm.

Steve held her to him as he pounded into her, his thrusts growing frantic with her every plea. “Shh, you’re doing so great,” he soothed. “Wait for me.”

Darcy shook her head, plunging her fingers into her damp hair and pulling wildly. “I can’t! Please, Steve! I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…” Her muscles were clenched stiff, and from deep within her gut, she could feel a scream building.

“Alright, sweetheart,” Steve conceded on a broken whisper, his hold on her strengthening as his hips stuttered. “Come.”

It felt exactly like she was leaping off a cliff, frightened and exhilarated at the same time, her body curving into a magnificent arc as a scream so loud tore out of her that she was afraid the whole tower had heard it. She neither noticed nor felt Steve follow her to his own conclusion. Her relief had been so profound, she thought she might have blacked out for a second in the aftermath.

She opened her eyes with effort when Steve slumped back on the bed in a sitting position, taking her with him, bracketing her body with his. She leaned back into him, boneless, as his head came to rest on her shoulder, both of them utterly and completely spent.

“I hate you,” Darcy murmured, barely managing to keep her eyes open. She couldn’t feel her legs anymore.

Steve chuckled. “Someone has a domination kink.”

“Shut up.”

“Did you see stars?”

“I saw the fucking moon… let me sleep!”

She felt him smile against her shoulder as her eyes drifted shut and she anchored herself to his heartbeat. It wasn’t any steadier than hers, racing as it was on adrenaline, but the ceaseless _thump-thump_ of it in her ear lulled her straight to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written anything like this before. Well, once. But it wasn't this explicit.
> 
> Not asking you to be kind or anything because of it. Just bragging, really, coz I'm proud of myself.


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